Misunderstandings
by Dylan S. Thompson
Summary: Santana and Brittany finally clear up a few things.


Misunderstandings

Santana was shoving her thick-as-hell Chemistry book into her locker when she heard Brittany behind her.

"Hi," the blond said quietly. The bravado and anger of their last encounter has been replaced by the timidity and sadness of their penultimate one. Santana heaved a sigh at the sound of the voice which had once sent thrills of joy through her. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to be ambushed again at her locker. She didn't want to tear open the wound that wouldn't heal. She just wanted to get through a day, just one day, without sobbing.

"You can't keep doing this," Santana mumbled, barely audible, not turning around.

Brittany laid a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to turn around, but Santana shrugged it off. There was a moment of silence before Brittany asked, "Doing what?"

Santana grabbed her dictionary and thesaurus, shoving them into her bag before turning to Brittany with gritted teeth and saying, "Sidling up to me out of the blue to talk, like nothing has changed! Like we're still friends."

Brittany's eyes widened in shock. Santana spun around, desperate to escape this situation before it began. Before she could leave, however, she heard Brittany whisper, "We're not friends?"

Unable to stop herself, Santana whirled around and exclaimed, "No!" She let out a groan of frustration, but took a step closer to Brittany and lowered her voice. Every time. Every single time she got sucked in by a desire to vent her feelings, to make the oblivious blonde understand her pain. But every time she ended up only saying a fraction of what she wanted, and never the way she needed. She spent hours imagining confrontations like this, she sometimes even dreamed them, imagining she was finally as articulate as she wished. Imagining she finally had the perfect words, the ones that could both express all her pain and change Brittany's mind.

"How can you not get that? How can you not understand that everything has changed? That there's no way I can be your friend now that you know I'm in love with you? After you rejected me?"

Brittany opened her mouth to say something, but Santana rushed to cut her off. "Every second I'm around you I'm in pain, Brittany. Every second. How can you not see that?"

Brittany's mouth snapped shut, and she finally, finally, had a look of guilt on her face. Santana felt a surge of satisfaction and turned again to leave. She set off toward her English class, only to hear the sound of Brittany trotting after her, calling her name. She sped up, but to no avail. Brittany caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into an empty classroom. Brittany shut the door and then the two former lovers stood in silence, regarding each other.

"I don't understand," Brittany said, breaking the silence. This caused Santana to lose her cool. She emitted a loud shriek of frustration and threw her bag to the other side of the room with as much force as she could manage, toppling over several chairs.

Brittany watched this display with wide, worried eyes, her lip between her teeth. "I don't understand how you can feel that way," she began again when it was quiet, "when you know I love you."

Santana chuckled mirthlessly and said, "I don't know that at all, Brittany."

"But…but I said I did! Twice! I love you, Santana. There, three times!"

Santana shook her head wearily. She still wanted to escape, but she knew that was impossible. Maybe she would finally get some closure.

"Three times or three hundred times, it doesn't change the fact that you chose someone else over me. You asked me to talk about our relationship, so I did. You asked for feelings, so I showed you mine. You asked, you pushed…but in the end you just crushed me. Why?"

Santana had been staring at the ground as she spoke, but she lifted her head to stare into Brittany's blue eyes. Tears were streaming down Santana's cheeks as she asked, raggedly, "I still don't get it, Brittany. Why did you push if you had no intention of doing anything? If you weren't going to break up with Artie, why did you want me to…"

Santana trailed off, unable to bring herself to finish her question. Brittany opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out. She took a deep, shuddering breath, biting her lip to keep from breaking down entirely. Santana watched, wringing her hands anxiously. She hated it a little that she still wanted nothing more than to cross the room and take the other girl into her arms. But she forced herself not to, and Brittany finally spoke.

"I just wanted things to be better," Brittany whispered brokenly. An incredulous, bitter laugh emitted from Santana. Brittany swallowed audibly, but continued, "I just wanted to be able to say 'I love you' after sex, Tana. I wanted to say 'make love' instead of 'have sex'. I just…wanted to be able to take us seriously outside of my own head."

"Why didn't you?" Santana asked, swallowing thickly, voice full of surprise. "Why didn't you just say that stuff?"

"You wouldn't let me," Brittany said sadly.

Santana gaped at the blonde. "I don't have control over you," Santana defended heatedly. "I didn't put you in a muzzle! If you wanted to say something, you should have said it! I had no idea you took us seriously at all until you said you wanted to talk to an adult."

Brittany flinched slightly, but nodded. "I knew you wouldn't want to hear it," she said, taking a deep breath. "I knew…I thought I knew…that you were happy with just having sex when you couldn't hook up with Puck."

"Are you kidding me?" Santana took a step forward, feeling like some progress was being made. It was slightly scary how grievously two people as close as them could misunderstand each other. Brittany had shared her bed for nearly two years, and was closer to her than anyone in the world, yet it seemed like both of them had misunderstood the most basic truths about each other. Both had let fear impede them. Santana decided that this was going to be their last fight, one way or another. She was going to lay it all out again, even more than before. If Brittany didn't want her, then she'd move on. If Brittany did want her, though…

"Brittany, I would have been ecstatic to hear you whisper 'I love you' into my ear after we made love. I used to dream about that all the time. I mean…look how I acted as soon as you mentioned feelings for the first time! I confessed everything after like a day! I felt like my dreams were finally coming true. I was so sure that everything was going to be alright…"

Santana trailed off, wincing as the rejection of that day hit her again like a physical pain. She felt the anger and bitterness begin to rise in her, but she pushed past it. For the first time in a long time, she felt like happiness was within her sight.

"I just…I've been in love with you for, like, ever, Brittany. Nearly from the day we met. I was just afraid that you'd freak if you found out how strongly I felt about you, how much I wanted to be with you and only you. You never…you never seemed to want anything serious with anyone. You always jumped from guy to guy to guy…and you always seemed happy doing so. I was afraid of scaring you away. And…I was afraid of myself too. I admit that. But…I'm done being afraid, Brittany. I wanted to be with you. I still want to be. I can't come out in a day, Britt. But I'd be so much happier, so much braver, with you by my side. I need you. I need you so much more than he does."

Santana stepped forward and took Brittany's hands into her own. The other girl stared at her, eyes wide with wonder and filled with tears. Santana brushed her thumbs over Britt's fingers and whispered, "Please, Brittany. Please break up with him. Please help me through this. It's so hard, so scary. I need the woman I love by my side. Say you'll be my girlfriend. "

Brittany's hands clenched Santana's almost painfully, and she pulled Santana closer. She wrapped Santana in her arms, pressed their bodies together for the first time since Santana's confession. Santana buried her face in the crook of Brittany's neck and let out a sob of joy, of regret, of catharsis, and Brittany placed her lips next to the brunette's ear and whispered, "Yes."

The End

A/N: I started writing this with the intention of writing an angst fic to get out all of my frustrations about Brittany, but halfway through it became apparent that I was headed to a happy ending. Probably something to do with finding out about Bin Laden. Anyways, so this story has kind of a schizophrenic feel…but I decided to keep it as is because I think a lot of arguments with people you love are pretty schizophrenic. How often have you started an argument hating someone and ended it loving them more than ever, lol?


End file.
